My name, or not my name.

Just a small word, an open sound

Enclosing all I am, or not.

I’ve heard it a million times before,

spoken from lips forsaken

Addressed to me, or not.

I didn’t really know what it meant

Until you baptized me again, with the same

Word that everyone calls me years now.

You called me Anna

and only then I felt

This was my name,

that word was me

Nothing less, so much more

Addressing me down to the core.

Undressing me from all the wrong sounds

Wrong tones, leaving me naked and reborn.

With all known meanings meaning wrong.